


A Celebration

by DPPatricks



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Good times, M/M, No Sex, celebration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:01:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DPPatricks/pseuds/DPPatricks
Summary: A long-awaited night of entertainment at The Pits
Relationships: Ken Hutchinson/David Starsky
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	A Celebration

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written in the two hours after I read Nancy's New Year's prompt on the Starsky & Hutch The Original Bromance FaceBook page. The challenge was to pick one or more titles from a series of popular 70's songs and write a story. Thanks, Nancy!

“Settle down, folks, settle down!” I walk to the stage that’s been placed in the corner of the room and step up. A microphone is waiting for me on the piano seat and I pick it up. Blowing into it, a “shushing” sound comes out of the speakers hung around the ceiling. Everybody turns toward me, bright smiles everywhere.

In the middle of the crowd, two of the faces - comprised of four blue eyes and two expressive mouths - are throwing more brilliance over the crowd than all the lights in the room combined. I cock the mic toward them before blowing into it again, lightly this time.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I intone in my most professional Master of Ceremonies voice, “I think we’ve all waited for this day for a very long time.” 

Raucous cheers and a few “Hear hear’s” soar over the immediate applause. The couple in the middle withstand the wave of hearty back slaps extended by those who can reach them before I hold up my hand. 

“Now, people, don’t injure the guests of honor. We got a whole lotta celetratin’ to do here tonight and I want ’em to be standin’ when we finally scoot ’em off on their honeymoon with the traditional shoes an’ rice sendoff!” 

Whistles and rowdy comments echo off the walls, all of it cheerful and good-natured. 

“The State of California,” I continue, “in it’s infinite wisdom has, at long last, decided that same-sex couples can legally marry.”

My smile is nearly as wide as the grinning pair’s and I hold their eyes while the happy commotion builds. When it shows no signs of fading, I raise my hand again and the noise abates. 

“I know they appreciated your kind attention and composure during the ceremony…” I pause for effect. “But now I think it’s time we all let loose. At least a little.”

“Where’s the jukebox, Huggy?” a voice shouts from the back. “ If we’re gonna let loose, why’d ya move it?”

“Oh, don’t worry, my friends,” I assure everyone. “There’s most definitely gonna be music!” Cheers renew. “And food. And libations!”

More cheering and applause.

I hold up both hands and wait for things to calm down before bringing the mic back to my lips. “Before we get to the eating and drinking part of this shindig, however, I’ll tell you why I had the jukebox moved to the storage room.” 

“You got a piano up there, Huggy,” the anonymous voice persists. “You gonna provide us with someone to play it, are ya?” 

I motion for quiet and, after a few more questions and cat calls, get it.

“I contacted our friend, SueAnn Grainger,” I say, “but unfortunately she’s in the middle of a European tour and couldn’t get away.” Groans and shaken heads greet that news. “However…” Silence reigns again. “She has asked a friend of hers to stand in for her and he has graciously agreed.”

I half-turn toward the back-exit hallway and hold out my hand. “So, without further ado, may I present… Barry Manilow.”

The sixty-five-year-old, still handsome singer/song writer walks from the back of the throng and, during the thunderous applause, makes his way to the stage and joins me. I shake his hand and give him the mic. 

Stepping down, I join my best friends as everyone quiets.

“When SueAnn called me,” Manilow says, in his mellifluous voice, “and explained the extraordinary background and history of these two people…” He gestures to my buddies. “You couldn’t have kept me away with a barricade of mounted police.”

Cheering again, the crowd pushes and shoves the two beaming men, and me, to the front of the stage. 

“When I did a little checking,” Manilow continues, “I discovered that these two men and I are the same age. In fact, my birthday is right between theirs. So we have much in common.”

My best friends appear surprised, as I am, but the announcement only serves to make everyone more attentive.

“These two guys,” he nods at my pals, “have lived through the same fraught years I have and have probably experienced many of the same highs and lows brought on by those times.”

Murmurs of heightened interest flow around the room.

“With that in mind,” Manilow says, “and with everything SueAnn told me, I’ve revised the lyrics, somewhat, of one of my personal favorites of all the songs I’ve recorded.”

He walks to the piano, sits down, and slips the mic into the holder fastened to the backboard. As he plays the first chords, I hear sounds of anticipation and approval.

_There you are  
Looking just the same as you did last time I touched you  
And here I am  
Always getting tangled up inside the thought of you_

_Do you love me?  
As much as I love you?  
And will that love be strong  
If old feelings start to stir?_

_Looks like we made it  
Found each other on the way to another love  
Looks like we made it  
And I was sure of it today  
Because you were there everywhere  
And all I could taste was love the way we made it._

_Love’s so strange  
Playing hide and seek with hearts and always hurting  
And we’re the fools  
Standing close enough to touch those burning memories._

_And if I hold you  
For the sake of all those times  
Love made us lose our minds  
Could I ever let you go?_

_Whoa, no! We made it  
Found each other on the way to another love  
Looks like we made it  
And I was sure of it today  
Because you were there everywhere  
And all I could taste was love the way we made it._

_Oh, we made it!_

I’d heard applause in my establishment many times but it had never been quite like this. 

“Encore!” someone shouts. “Play it again, S… uh, Barry!” “One more time!” 

Manilow leans close to the mic. “Make some room, why don’t you? Let’s let the newlyweds dance.” 

As the crowd presses backward and opens some space next to the stage, Barry Manilow begins again. Many of the celebrants hum or sing, stumbling over the new words a few times. 

My buddies, my best friends wrap their arms around each other, moving as if they’d danced together their entire lives. 

_Looks like we made it._

__

__END_ _

**Author's Note:**

> Same-gender marriage became legal in California in June, 2008.
> 
> 'Looks Like We Made It," 1976, written by Richard Kerr and Will Jennings (altered lyrics by the author)


End file.
